


crescendo

by winluvr



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post Timeskip, seasons as plot device, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winluvr/pseuds/winluvr
Summary: in which the moon loves the stars so much that it always stayed with it in times of darkness.(a story of parallels told in eight phases)alt. title: stop the world, i wanna get off with you
Relationships: Haiba Lev/Kozume Kenma, Past Kuroo Tetsurou/Kozume Kenma, past Ushijima Wakatoshi/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51
Collections: Kenma Ship Week 2020





	crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> hiii i really wanted to create content for a rare pair i love sm but see so little content of :") the idea has been festering in my mind for so long so i'm glad i finally got to finish it just in time.

_ “Nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring.” _

_ — Vladimir Nabokov _

**_phase one_ ** **.**

When Ushijima Wakatoshi broke up with him on a cold rainy night, Kenma felt empty. 

“Kenma,” Ushijima began to say but retreated with a “Kozume-san.”  _ He is formal as always. Even when he’s going to face the great two-meter elephant in the room directly in the eye and make it submit to him with his words.  _ He knew what was coming and yet, and yet, it’s like he never expected it to come so soon. “I’m breaking up with you.” His voice was barely a shadow of a whisper, his usual baritone fading to the softest murmur. “It’s not your fault. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Kenma felt his own heart break into a thousand smithereens. He felt like the wide doorways and high ceilings of the Ushijima’s home —  _ no, house, I don’t believe it ever felt like home,  _ Wakatoshi admitted to him once — were closing in on him, suffocating the great elephant that was looking down on him in pity. An overwhelming amount of thoughts intruded Kenma’s mind, a dozen a minute. He felt himself getting lost in the web of thoughts his own inner machinations conjured and suddenly he doesn’t feel safe anymore in his own mind, the one thing he’s always felt secure in.

Kenma’s lip quivered as he attempted to smile up at him. “Ushijima,” he said, “do you love me?” The syllables fell off his tongue treacherously even though he tried hard to stop it. He knew the answer would hurt him and yet the words still came tumbling down.  _ Did you ever even love me? _ he wanted to ask.  _ Throughout the seven months we had together, was it ever me? _

Brows furrowed, Ushijima faltered. Kenma’s face fell. Silence struck between them, washing over them like a flood. And in the slightest hesitation between his parted lips, Kenma found his answer.

He smiled weakly. “It’s okay. I should have known.” How could his mere seven months possibly compare to the five years they had been together? “I hope you’ll be happy, Ushijima-san, even if it isn’t with me.” In his words, Kenma told no lies. He knew, Ushijima knew, they both knew that they would be happier apart from each other, they’d known it the whole time yet they refused to admit it until they were in too deep to stop.

Ushijima’s expression softened, a strong contrast to the harsh pitter-patter of the raindrops on his window. “Kenma, I’m sorry,” he said. “Wait—” 

Kenma didn’t wait to hear what he wanted to say. It was  _ okay.  _ No hard feelings. Maybe no feelings at all. After all, it wasn’t like he was head over heels in love with Ushijima. Their love was more of a whirlwind romance maintained through familiarity and comfort, a sudden fling born of recent heartbreaks. It will be okay.

Kenma didn’t cry on the way home. Kenma didn’t cry when he locked himself up in his bedroom and forgot to eat dinner, wallowing in self-doubt.  _ What went wrong?  _ He chewed on some grape candies he found in his backpack. They felt too hard, too heavy on the tongue and too rough to swallow. He found himself texting Ushijima the next day, saying sorry for leaving too soon and  _ maybe _ they can meet up and talk it over later. He said the words with a period but they feel like questions, the uncertainty of everything creeping unto his neck. He hated feeling unsure about anything; it made him feel so weak, so vulnerable. He hated not knowing what went wrong and he hated not knowing what was to come. He hated being wrong most of all _. _

So they do. Over bagels and coffee, they talked about what happened to them — just for the sake of ‘closure’ although Kenma would argue it never felt like an actual relationship but a mutual deal of companionship. There were no confrontational scenes taken straight from a romance movie, no slapping or crying loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear, no throwing the coffee over the others’ head or lap. They left the way they entered the shop, and they left each other’s lives the way they entered it:  _ easily, quickly, no big deal _ .

Kenma didn’t cry when he finally replaced the wallpaper his phone has had for months — one of the few pictures Ushijima let him take.  _ He smiled in that one. That was one of the only times he ever smiled.  _ Kenma doesn't cry when three years later, he learns from a mutual acquaintance that Ushijima and his ex had gotten back together. Kenma didn’t cry when he sees their travel photos. They’ve been all over Europe. He’s in Paris right now. Not once did Ushijima talk to Kenma about travelling throughout the world. Not once did Ushijima see a future with him. Kenma didn’t shed a single tear at all.  _ What’s wrong with me?  _ Kenma felt empty, like he had no tears to cry, no darkness to wallow in, no pity to bask in.  _ It was always Tendou. _

Kenma still feels empty, for the most part, like there’s a hollow crater where his heart is supposed to be. His heart feels simultaneously so empty and so full, bursting with emotion and yet the tears still won’t come. He wondered if this is how a falling star feels like: it comes tumbling down from the sky and feels like it has no more light to shed. How he wishes he  _ is  _ a shining star, a glimmer of hope on earth, but right now he feels like a mere crater on a nameless moon.

He wishes that one day, he’d be able to love. Not just a superficial love, but a true love that could not be swayed by things like looks and the way he eats and the social status and differing interests and everything else under the sun. He wishes that one day, he’d be able to love so hard that the indifference turns to pain and the pain turns to something else altogether. He wishes, more than anything, that someone would make him feel something more than “not much” or “just fine.”

☽

Kenma met Lev underneath the stars. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a stranger carrying a cat that was dressed in a bright pink overall. He looks up and  _ Oh _ .  _ He’s… cute. And tall. Really tall. _

The stranger strides right next to him and easily slots himself in the bench Kenma is sitting on. Kenma’s breath hitches beneath his chest.  _ He’s close, almost too close _ , he thought.  _ Not like I mind _ , the thought comes quicker than he can stop himself.

“Hello there,” he greets, the smile on his face as bright as the honey-hued stars on the deep blue, moonless sky stretching out over their heads. “What’cha doin’ here?” There is a glimmer, not mischievous at all but rather innocent, in his eyes as he speaks.

Kenma lets out a deep breath before speaking, a habit he had ingrained. “Not much. Just— just watching the stars, I guess.” He looks down at the grass. “How are you,” he says only as a formality. He can’t help but feel shy. He isn’t exactly used to meeting new people.

“I was having my evening jog,” he starts. “I had little Leon come with me ‘cause I didn’t want to leave ‘im alone at home.” He smiles — the kind of smile that leaves you hanging, the kind of smile that feels like the sun is shining right on his face. “D’ya like cats too?”

If Kenma is a falling star, then he is sure this charming stranger with his contagious megawatt grin and bright forest green eyes is the sun that everyone wishes to be able to wake up to every morning. Kenma can’t help but look at him, his eyes are just naturally drawn to his face. “Yeah,” he says, “I wanted to own a cat when I was younger but my parents weren’t having it.”

He smiles down at the ground, and how he wishes he could have the confidence to look him in his eyes — his eyes that were like the stars in the night sky above them, in all their golden glory. “I’m Lev, by the way.”

“I–I’ve got to go home now,” he manages to stutter out. “It’s getting late. I think you should go home by now as well.” He stands up, taking his belongings with him.

“Oh hey,” Lev calls out. “I didn’t get your name!”

“Kenma,” he says with a gentle smile dawning on the corners of his lips. This is the first time he had smiled genuinely in a long while. “You can call me Kenma.”

“Okay, Kenma. See you again soon!” He waves him goodbye, and Kenma notes just how  _ pretty _ his fingers are.  _ Pretty.  _ Kenma has never felt something like this before. He has never noticed how pretty someone else was, not until today. He feels a shiver up his spine.

**_phase two._ **

_ Kuroo whistles as he cooks _ . 

Kenma knew Kuroo Tetsurou like a video game he had attempted countless times and endured sleepless nights to beat but never managed to accomplish, a book he had memorized by heart and knew all the words of backwards or forwards, like the lyrics of his favorite song that fell off his tongue almost by instinct. He had been his best friend for so long that sometimes Kenma didn’t know how he could function without him. He didn’t know how the years before Kuroo were like and he almost couldn’t imagine an  _ after _ . It was like his childhood before Kuroo came into his life had become a blurry haze he couldn’t decipher, a string of thoughts he couldn’t unravel to a comprehensive memory. 

Which was why he accepted long ago that no matter what role he played on the stage of the world, Kuroo would always be a major part of the script of his life. No matter how many times you wrote and edited the script, Kuroo Tetsurou’s name would always be there. He was not a bit part, not a supporting character who died in the middle of the play, but a major character who pushed the lead into doing greater things in life.

“ _ Kenma _ , you’ve got to eat some more,” Kuroo said, handing him another plateful of baked salmon that he knew Kenma would never be able to finish. “Come on, hands off the phone. I made this for you.” Kuroo wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

Kenma shook his head several times, smiling weakly at him. “Kuro, I’m  _ full _ ,” he moaned, using the nickname Kuroo had used since their childhood. He patted his stomach for emphasis. “You know my stomach just isn’t a bottomless pit like yours obviously is.”

“Oi, don’t ya like my cooking?” Kuroo said with a pout. He stabbed a little of the baked salmon with his fork and put it to his mouth. “See?” He talked with his mouth full. “It tastes good, now come on, eat some.”

“Kuro,” Kenma moaned, “you’re acting like my  _ mom _ .” 

“Uhm,” Kuroo said, “no, I’m not!” 

“You are.” “Nuh-uh.” They exchanged rebuts for the rest of the day, a small habit they have had since childhood. Kenma never failed to feel comfortable in Kuroo’s presence. In a world full of uncertainties, he was the only remaining constant in his life. He only wished that things would never change, even if the things going on between them went down in flames.

That night, when the moon finally came down to watch over its people, a mere crescent with the slightest golden glow in the sky, Kuroo held Kenma in his arms, and although he had always felt like home, his grip felt too tight, his body too cold, and Kenma struggled to breathe against the pillows Kuroo always slept with against his head, ruffling his hair to the natural bed head he always wakes up with in the morning.

With Kuroo, he feels like he is drowning. He sinks to the bottom of the ocean floor, unable to breathe. He gets overwhelmed whenever Kuroo coddles him like a child. He feels nervous whenever Kuroo asks him too many questions that he can’t even answer one. He was so sure of Kuroo but he can’t help but overthink.

☽

With Lev, Kenma feels like he can finally  _ breathe _ .

Kenma feels the smallest spark of a flame flare in his heart, his body feeling warm— _ loved _ , in the most tender definition of the word. Lev is a breath of fresh air in a world that suffocates him. He is a refreshing gust of wind against his bare skin. The fire is persistent and yet careful at the same time. It won't let itself go out, it won't let itself die without a fight, yet it's deliberate and cautious enough not to burn its host's delicate fingers. 

Lev smells like warm coffee from the café next door, freshly bloomed red roses, and new beginnings. He is not a constant in his life yet, but he is a promise that everything will be okay. He turns over a new leaf and starts afresh. Kenma didn't recognize what his feelings were when he first felt them, but he knew that it was love when he felt its embers burning right through him. He knew he was in love, and may God help him if he couldn't even do anything about his feelings.

Kenma’s dial tone hums, vibrating against the wooden table, as he pores over a thick book. He doesn’t even need to check the caller ID to know who it is. He felt that kind of reassurance with Lev. “Kenma, I have a photoshoot with my sister today,” Lev says over the phone, sounding breathless like he was late for something. “I’ll meet you there in an hour or so, okay?” 

“Okay,” Kenma says, and just before Lev hangs up, he whispers, “Love you.” He said it with a quiet reverence, like it was a secret only the two of them were meant to share. Lev calls out the same thing and Kenma feels his heart hammering in his chest, a blush tinging his cheeks. He’s acting like a schoolboy with a crush again but it’s the first time in a long while he’s felt this way.

**_phase three._ **

Ushijima Wakatoshi, for the lack of better words, was an enigma. He had never been good with his words. He struggled to maintain a good level of tact, but it was never his fault as he had never socialized much outside of high school and the rare social gathering. He failed to express exactly what he felt and sometimes or perhaps even most of the time, he ended up hurting other people by saying the opposite of what he meant.

That was not supposed to be a problem between two people who were extremely similar in the sense that they did not even feel the need to talk much at all, only to each other, but sometimes Kenma felt needy. He never felt the reassurance he was constantly seeking from Ushijima but failed to receive. He never felt like Ushijima loved him. He felt like this was more of a mutual companionship with slight benefits, a friendship that had leveled-up a bit, more than anything else.

Kenma had never been a jealous person, but he could not help but feel envious about the way his supposed boyfriend gave other things and other people more attention than him. He had never been a clingy person, but he couldn’t help but ask for a spoonful of attention, just this once, when he felt like the world was breaking down in front of him. He couldn’t help but want some of his comfort, but Ushijima failed to notice his pain. He couldn’t help but want Ushijima to remember the little details too, like his birthday or their month anniversary. He wondered if he even remembered the color of his eyes.

Kenma propped his chin up with his elbow, looking at Ushijima who was not facing him. He pouted, thoughts running through his mind, things ranging between what he should cook for dinner and what present to get Ushijima for their fourth month anniversary tomorrow.

Ushijima took a sip from the cup of coffee that’s been sitting on his desk, his skilled fingers gliding over the pads of his keyboard. “Not now, Kenma,” Ushijima said with a yawn, rubbing his tired eyes. “I’m still busy.”

“Then why did you invite me over? You never have time for me,” Kenma muttered and retreated into the corner of Ushijima’s bed with his phone in his hands.

“Kenma, it isn’t like that.” Ushijima sighed. He didn’t even look back at Kenma and continued typing away. 

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Kenma retorted, not frustrated but more hurt than anything else. “I understand the struggle. I’m busy too. I’m trying to balance my studies and requirements and games and social life and organizations and… and our dates and everything too.”

“Please tell me if I am being too much to fit into your schedule,” Ushijima said. “I am not going to take it personally. I understand if you feel overwhelmed with everything going on in your life right now, okay?”

“Oh my god, Wakatoshi,” Kenma said. “Please don’t make me choose over my friends and… us.”

Ushijima snapped his head back like he’d snapped out of his trance, almost like he had been slapped. “Oh. No. Wait, Kenma. I’m sorry, I did not mean it like that.”

Kenma sighed. “It’s okay. I could never get mad at you. I’m sorry, I was being petty. I understand how hard it is to balance everything. I just missed having you all to myself.” He smiled weakly. “Happy four months to us.”

☽

Kenma and Lev got together sometime during the spring when the greenery was verdant and lush, the weather was perfect, the cherry blossoms began to grow and the snow began to recede. Wind billowed through Kenma’s hair. Everything was so natural and yet it all felt magical to him when he was around Lev.

Lev was wearing a fur coat his sister had picked out for him, a navy scarf wrapped around his neck. He was holding a rolled-up picnic mat in his hand and a basket full of food in the other. When he breathed out, a small, misty cloud of smoke appeared. “Hello, Kenma,” he said, “I can’t wait for the cherry blossom viewing.”

“Me too,” Kenma said with a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at Lev. The taller boy looked so mature to other people who didn’t know him well due to his angular features, thanks to his Russian blood, and yet his eyes still held the same innocent wonder as a child. “My parents loved gathering with our cousins for  _ hanami  _ and the flowers were always so beautiful.” The sakuras are transient blooms, passing and momentary, but they are always enjoyable feasts of colors to the eyes.

The park’s cherry blossom viewing, or  _ yozakura _ , was supposed to be at night but they arrived a few hours early just to pick out a good spot for their mat, although some people, mostly small families, were already there. Lev could talk about virtually everything under the sun, from their school’s football matches to obscure Russian film stars he had only learned the names of from his father, and Kenma would still stare at him with an endless fascination. But he suddenly interrupted himself in the middle of his speech about the story of Urashima Taro. “So, uh, the real reason I asked you here is because I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay,” Kenma said, rubbing his hands together for warmth, until Lev put his hands in his coat pockets. A flush of pink creeped up over Kenma’s face. “Thank you. What is it?” He could feel his heart beating now. “Come on,” Kenma teased. “Just get it over with.”

“I’m nervous,” Lev said. “You know, we’ve been friends for a while, right? And I told you that I liked you.” He looked into Kenma’s eyes. “Well, I have been meaning to ask you if you want to take it a step further. I mean, I wanted to court you to show you how serious I am, if that’s fine with you.” He was fiddling with his thumbs as he asked, his cheeks pink, and Kenma found it so adorable that he wanted to ask him to be his boyfriend right there and then, but he knew that he couldn’t. He had to wait until he was whole to give all of him to Lev.

“Okay.” The moon was merely a quarter in the starry deep blue sky and they watched the paper lanterns and the cherry blossoms in silent companionship. Kenma looked longingly at Lev, with his slate-gray hair and dark green eyes, as he watched the flowers in fascination. It was a comforting tranquility, not the type of silence that you’d feel like you had to talk for hours just to fill it up. It was the type of consoling quietness between them that made Kenma feel nostalgic.

**_phase four._ **

The tension was thick and suffocating in the air when Kenma was invited to the Kuroo family home for dinner after a long while. They hadn’t grown apart at all but problems between Kuroo’s parents had made it hard for Kenma to feel comfortable visiting, so he just didn’t.

“Oh, Kenma,” Kuroo’s mother greeted him with the bright, pearly, movie-star smile he’d grown accustomed to seeing but still stunned him to silence every time. “It’s been so long since we’ve had you over for dinner.”

Kuroo sighed. “It’s ‘cause you’re barely ever here, ma.” The remark was sharp, but there was no ill intention. He was merely stating the facts. Kuroo forced a smile on his face and ushered Kenma to their dining room. “I hope you won’t get uncomfortable,” he whispered in his ear when nobody was looking. “Don’t mind them.”

The Kuroo family dinner was awkward, in the most horrible sense of the word. The constant arguments between Kuroo’s father and mother made it hard for them to have a civil dinner together with their son and his best friend as well as his secret boyfriend. The food more than made up for it though, and Kenma found himself shovelling more and more spoonfuls of homemade apple pie in his mouth to avoid speaking too much. Kuroo looked at him with a certain fondness in his eyes as he chewed, but thankfully averted his eyes at the right time so he wouldn’t get caught.

“Have you got a girlfriend yet, Kenma?” Kuroo’s father asked him over grilled salted mackerel pike, Kuroo’s favorite food, and tall glasses of sake and Kenma almost,  _ almost  _ corrected him. Kenma knew he was treading on dangerous waters so he backtracked. 

Kuroo squeezed his hand underneath the table and he understood immediately. He just wanted a peaceful family dinner, just this once, and Kenma was more than ready to give it to him. Kenma smiled, his jaw tightened, biting back a retort. “No, I guess I don’t really like anyone in our class much.” A safe answer.

Kuroo’s father redirected the question to his own son. “Kuroo, my boy, how come the two of you are still single?” he asked, his mouth full of omelette. “Kenma, you boys should go find yourself some girlfriends.”

Kenma stabbed the piece of mackerel on his china plate with his fork. Inwardly, he thought,  _ It’s because you won’t approve _ .  _ It’s because you’ll never let your son date someone like me. It’s because you’ll never let your son love a boy, only a girl even when he’s always known his heart wants what it wants. _ Instead, he forced himself to smile and said, “Yes, of course.”

☽

Kenma always felt comfortable with Lev, like he never felt the need to break free. He never felt the need for conventions or formalities. He never felt like he was lost and he never felt like he was looking for a place in his life. On the day they first met under the stars, he told him immediately to call him by his first name, a sign of closeness despite being about a year younger. Through the months they have known each other, they have shared their deepest secrets and fascinations with each other without even a moment of hesitation.

Today, Kenma was going to meet his family. Lev had been serious about courting Kenma for the past few months and he wanted him to meet his parents and his older sister, the most important people in his life. Kenma couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t nervous, because he was. His heart was beating so fast in his chest but Lev took his small hand in his, squeezed it three times, and suddenly everything felt alright.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my onee-san,” Lev said, his voice clearly filled with adoration for his older sister, whom Kenma had heard was a fashion designer and freelance model. “You’ll love her! You’ll get along so well with her. She just does that with everyone.” 

The afternoon came and here they were, at the stair steps of Lev’s home. Lev sheepishly confessed that he had forgotten his house keys on the way out. Lev’s knuckles rapped three times against the wood and his mother opened the door. “Hello, dear,” she greeted, a bright smile on her face, similar to her son’s. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Kenma bowed. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Lev squeezed his hand again as a sign of reassurance. 

A tall woman with long hair flowing down her back came forward. “Is he your boyfriend?” she exclaimed excitedly. “Oh, Lev, you never told me he was so cute!”

Lev’s ears tinged pink. “Actually, as of now, we’re just friends.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just courting Kenma as of now.” 

“Okay,” Alisa said, facing Kenma. “Hello, I’m Alisa,” she said, speaking so fast. “I hope my little brother treats you right. He doesn’t have much experience but I’m sure he’ll love you a lot! But if he ever hurts you in any way, please bring him over to us for a spanking.” She said it in a joking manner but it was almost menacing.

Kenma could feel his heart easing immediately.  _ There is nothing to worry about. _ Lev’s words ring true in his ears. But the truth, Kenma’s own mind completed the statement by itself,  _ there is nothing to worry about when you have Lev. _ Lev was some solace in solitude.

**_phase five._ **

With Ushijima, everything feels like a formality.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, son of a rich businessman and a world-famous film critic, sure put a whole different meaning to the old adage “put your money where your mouth is” as he presented Kenma with a multi-course Japanese dinner with a price more suitable for a family of five, a feast of scallops, caviar and blue marlin belly and glasses filled with the finest whiskey money can afford. Truthfully, Kenma would be better off munching on apple pie and maybe a fudge sundae at a nearby McDonalds, but he couldn’t say no when the man said he wanted to make up for forgetting to buy a present.

Kenma took one look at the menu and knew that on a normal evening, he would  _ never  _ be able to afford it, especially when the only currency he had on hand as a self-taught artist-hermit-streamer-cryptid hybrid was a few coins and so-called ‘exposure.’ His lifetime savings and the actual money he got from his art and video game streaming were stowed away in the bank as his college funds. “You can order for me,” he said shyly. “I don’t really know what to get.” Ushijima smiled at him.

Ushijima never boasted about how rich he was, but sometimes Kenma could feel the disconnect between their classes. He never meant to rub it in his face, but there are times when Kenma feels guilty about not being able to afford something and Ushijima offers to pay for it. Kenma offered to split the bill but he refused. “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head. “I got this.”

Kenma clinked their glasses together. He took a sip of Royal Salute whiskey and felt the anxiety bubbling up, like a sparkling carbonated drink, in his chest. His hand was trembling as he stabbed a piece of codfish and put it in his mouth. He could never get used to this.

☽

Everything good surely begins in the season of spring with its feasts of pink and ivory blossoms, flourishing greenery and gentle zephyr-like breezes. 

Consider the way the monarch butterfly propels itself in the air at leisure: it flaps its bright orange wings gently, delicately, slowly building up the pace. Notice the gentle way a budding flower pries itself open when it’s finally ready, exposing its paler interiors. In the grand scheme of things, Lev Haiba was more of a mammoth than a monarch butterfly. He was more like the great, roaring beast trampling through the trees that tickled his feet and pulverizing everything in its line of vision. He was tall, lumbering at times, but when he is holding something precious in his arms, he becomes so gentle.

Under the orange-tinged skies, Lev presses his lips against Kenma’s own. And it’s so soft, so gentle, so filled with reassurance that Kenma slowly closes his eyes. He tastes like butterscotch sundae and a hint of caramel and Kenma finally feels something more than the hollowness he had felt for so long. He feels fulfilled, like he’s finally found what he’s been looking for, like the missing piece in a puzzle that he had been working on for hours or like the song he only remembered the melody of but finally found on the third page of the search engine after two hours. Kenma feels satisfied.

They are standing in front of Lev’s family home and it felt so scandalous to be kissing his now-boyfriend when someone could peek through a window and see them. Kenma feels his knees grow weak and suddenly, he’s losing his sense of balance and he’s overwhelmed with the thought that  _ oh my god oh my god I shouldn’t be doing this but I am and it feels so good.  _ Lev feels —  _ tastes _ like sin and Kenma knows better than to give in to temptation. But how can you resist a blessing when it’s right in front of you? How can you pull back when sunshine and moonlight is bundled up so carefully into his lips.  _ his lips. his lips.  _ So Kenma tugs on the front of Lev’s scarlet shirt, pulling him closer, kissing him back.

Lev pulls back and Kenma almost feels disappointed. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” Lev says. “I didn’t know what I’m doing. That was my first kiss, actually.” He blushes, going almost as red as his shirt. Kenma doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t care anymore if he didn’t know what to do. He doesn’t care anymore if anyone is watching. He has no more cares in the world.

Kenma pulls Lev toward him again and the second kiss feels and tastes like a thousand forevers. Lev smiles against his lips, tucking Kenma’s hair behind his ear. 

The moon smiles knowingly down at him in all of its fullness, its silvery glow illuminating his flaxen hair, and Kenma knows he’s alive. He can’t help it but he is falling headlong through the stained glass windows, into the rabbit hole before he even realizes it. He only hopes that it won’t hurt when he finally lands.

**_phase six._ **

“Kenma,” Kuroo had proposed with a hand to his chin one day, “you’re single. I’m single. I’m lonely. I’m not sure about you, but you know what that means?”

Kenma doesn’t feel the light bulb spark in his head like it was supposed to. He tilted his head to the right, an indistinguishable frown on his face. “...eh?” was what managed to come out of his parted mouth.  _ “Are you stupid?”  _ was more of what he wanted to say.  _ “Things like that just don’t work out in the end.”  _ But he never said that, not in front of Kuroo’s excited face at least.

“Aw, come on,” Kuroo whined, the grin falling off his face and becoming replaced with a childish pout, like a child that didn’t get candy. “Don’t look at me like that.”

_ What if you find someone else better than me? What if I actually fall for you?  _ He wanted to ask the thousand of what ifs whirling through his mind but he never said a word.  _ What then?  _ But he wanted Kuroo to put himself first. Just once. Just this once. Kenma wanted, most of all, to put Kuroo’s needs first because Kuroo always prioritized him. He wanted to make him happy. 

After all, he  _ did  _ love Kuroo, somewhat, but more in the sense that he was familiar unlike everything and everyone else in the world that made him feel unsure. He had been his best friend for so long and he knew him like nobody else did, not even his own parents. He had seen sides of Kenma that nobody else had. He never So despite the sirens’ deafening rings and the warning bells going off in his head, Kenma agreed.

Kenma was understandably unsure if it would work because Kuroo had a heart that was easy to sway with the littlest things. Kuroo falls in love with everyone. Kuroo falls in love with at least one person everywhere he goes. Kuroo falls in love with all the little things. He falls in love with the neat way someone eats ramen. He falls in love in the blink of an eye. He falls in love the way an asteroid falls into the earth. You’ll never see it coming. But despite this, Kuroo loved him so hard.

Loving Kuroo was like walking barefoot on the moon, its craters grazing the balls of your feet, with a stride in your step. You’ll expect for it to bruise your feet at least once but you’ll never see it coming. Kenma knew a deal like the one they had wouldn’t work out in the long term but he didn’t know it would hurt this bad.

☽

Lev whispered “I love you” for the first time beneath the light of the lampposts and the glow of the moon just after moonrise. Kenma didn’t know how to read lips, but he could grasp what he said based on the longing look in his eyes. He whispered back, “I love you too.”

Kenma was so sure of what he felt for Lev by then. How could he not be when he treated him like the most precious thing he has ever had? How could he not be when he held him like a fragile piece of glass that could leave cuts on his fingers? Kenma knew the fire in his chest couldn’t possibly continue to burn forever, but he felt that there might be a possibility that what he felt was more than a small spark, a flare of a flame. Whatever it is, he was sure it had found a home in his heart and could never falter. Before, he used to be so afraid of love crashing, burning and going down in flames but now, he was more afraid that the flames would eat him alive because of how strong they were.

Lev lies with Kenma in his bed. They don’t do anything. Lev watches Kenma play a video game he just can’t beat on his handheld with a passionate frustration in his eyes. Lev makes him some instant ramen for him to eat because he skipped dinner for this. Kenma falls asleep soon enough on Lev’s shoulder, heart beating in his chest. Lev could treasure the sight forever.

Lev loves Kenma just like a shooting star flying past his window. He wishes to hold it close and he longs to touch it, but he was content with watching it and asking for its graces. The shooting star blesses him with its presence every night and Lev couldn’t feel more grateful. The melody of the night rings through their ears, comforting him and lulling Kenma into a deep sleep. The moonlight shines brightly against the river.

**_phase seven._ **

With Ushijima, he feels like he is floating.

Kenma took a small yet calculated risk when he said yes to Ushijima’s offer that night. No sex. No one night stands where you get drunk so bad you forget each other's names and somewhere along the road, you’ll forget how the pain used to feel too. No rough make out sessions behind the backseat of Ushijima’s car that could fit thrice as many people but never enough to accommodate the overwhelming pain they could feel. Nothing of the sort. They agreed to help each other forget and everything was purely platonic at the time. 

_ What if I actually fall for you? _ Kenma asked that day, he saw it coming because he was legitimately at least attracted to the other boy. Ushijima only laughed and answered,  _ We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.  _

Kenma took a sip of the boba drink in his hand. The milk was too sweet for his tastes and the pearls too chewy, but he found himself getting lost in his thoughts. Maybe the sweetness of the tea was what he’d been looking for all this time. Maybe a sugar rush was what he had been longing for all this time. Maybe a pinch of sugar on his tongue was enough to help him forget. 

Instead, it was a mutual agreement. A  _ relationship _ , of sorts. It had its advantages sometimes. On the first date, they laid out the grounds and conditions, asked all the easy questions and all the hard ones, even the ones normal couples would tackle a few more years into the relationship. Just for the sake of familiarity.  _ How’s your family? When do you want to get married?  _ After the third date, Ushijima stopped talking about Tendou Satori and started talking about himself more, like he was doing his best to detach himself from what used to be. Just for the sake of convention. After the tenth and so on, Kenma found himself feeling more and more comfortable with Ushijima and it scared him.

Kenma noted how softly Ushijima always uttered Tendou’s name, one syllable falling off his tongue at a time, like a name that should be provided with utmost reverence. Kenma noticed the small smile hanging on the corner of his lips whenever he remembered Kenma noticed all of the little details about Ushijima whenever he watched him secretly, whenever he wasn’t looking back at him. On a normal day, Kenma would have found himself falling in love with him. He was arguably attractive in all aspects. He had a sense of humor, although in the sense that he was accidentally funny due to his seriousness. Intelligent. Handsome, too.

But Kenma knew most of all that he should not get himself attached to someone who hadn't finished loving someone else. He hadn’t finished loving his childhood friend yet anyways. After all, he knows that pain and devastation only occur when you let yourself grow an irrational attachment to someone or something that you can lose so easily, in the sudden blink of an eye, in the flitting shadow or in the flap of a little butterfly’s wings.

So Kenma never let himself get attached. He made sure he was detached at all times, like a button falling off your shirt. But sometimes he just couldn’t help but let the tiniest bit of himself fall for Ushijima.

☽

Loving Lev was like dipping your feet on the surface of a river and watching it ripple against the tips of your toes. You never feel like you’re drowning but you never feel like you’re floating either. Your body feels relaxed from all its past tensions. The grass surrounds you and tickles your skin. You feel safely planted on the earth and you feel safe, secure for the first time in a while.

A few years had passed since Lev finally asked Kenma to be his boyfriend and now he was a professional model along with his older sister. Kenma had now fulfilled his lifelong dream of becoming a professional streamer, as well as invested in some stocks, and grew his own company from the ground. The two of them couldn’t be any happier, any more satisfied. They had each other and more importantly, they had everything they wanted. Nothing could possibly break them down.

The moon shines proudly down upon them, a mere quarter against the velvet vantablack of the night sky. Despite its size, it looms over them unabashedly and confidently, reminding them to look back at their goals and everything they had done to turn it into a reality. The stars twinkle at them, one by one, reminding them to never let the light in their hearts fade. Lev squeezed Kenma’s hand. It was a promise that they will love each other until the sky falls down onto the earth.

**_phase eight._ **

Kuroo is home to him and always has been.

But sometimes you have to look for home  _ away _ from home, taste a new manager’s choice dish in your favorite restaurant instead of the one you always order whenever you go there, find a new scenery every once in a while or else the both of you will just end up burning out and come crashing down to the reality of the world you have been trying so hard to avoid.

Kuroo Tetsurou was a sense of familiarity to Kenma amongst the greatness of the world that both scared him and fascinated him at the same time. But maybe it was true that familiarity breeds contempt. It wasn’t like he hated Kuroo, but instead being too close and yet so far at the same time, too persistent, too perfect, too alike and yet too different at the same threw him off. Kuroo was overbearing, overprotective, more like his own mother than a partner to him. Sure, Kuroo had always been his partner in crime and number one confidante, the only one he felt comfortable being with and confident sharing his achievements to. But their relationship had become a cesspool of mixed emotions and boredom and not much else. They both longed for more and they both knew it. But he’d always love Kuroo, no matter what happened, because he was all of his firsts. He’d always hold a piece of Kenma’s heart.

That night, Kenma pasted their most recent picture in his journal he had been keeping since childhood. It was filled with their photos together, almost like an ode to his first, almost like a dedication to the one who had always been his first love. The one who stole his first kiss. The one that broke his heart for the first time. He snuck in little notes about how to take care of a certain Kuroo Tetsurou and how to make him happy. Even when they were going their separate ways, although remaining as best friends, he wanted him to be happy. He told whoever the recipient would be to take care of him, make sure he eats a lot and gets a lot of sleep, buy him little presents like a book about dinosaurs to show him you care, indulge in his interests and most of all, for help in chemistry even when you don’t really need it. It was his best subject and he secretly wants to gloat about how good he is at it.  _ Love him, give him all you have because he’ll give you everything and more. _

Kenma found himself staring at the big, beautiful moon with its bright, beautiful glow over the balcony of their house. He felt like the moon was staring back down at him, smiling back at him with pity. The tears didn’t flow. He felt hollow, although it was a happy kind of empty.

☽

When the moon wishes you goodnight, always,  _ always  _ say it back. You don’t know when will be the next time you get to say it. Let the past go and let yourself grow.

Lev took Kenma to the park where they first met. There are no people around them. It was just them and the stars tonight. They were alone, but they were together. He smiles, his deep green eyes crinkling at the corners, his face bright amidst the golden starlight.

Lev kneels down in front of him, conjuring up a little scarlet box from his coat pocket. “Kozume Kenma,” he said, his hand trembling a bit. “Will you marry me?”

Lev proceeds into a nervous speech about everything he loves about Kenma and how he’s the person he wants to spend his whole life with. What Lev said was short and simple, yet the sweetest, most sacred words that Kenma had ever heard. It was not the endless promises that got him; it was the earnest sincerity of his words that allowed him to fall for him even deeper. A gust of wind billows through Kenma’s golden hair that showed its dark roots now, framing his face like a portrait. Kenma smiles up at the moon in the starry night and hopes it’s watching over him right now, because he had never been more certain. Kenma says yes and Lev nearly bursts into tears before Kenma stands on his tip-toes and pulls him into a soft kiss.

With Lev, he feels like he is grounded safely on earth. He feels safe in his arms. He feels loved in his warm touches. He feels full. His feet are safely planted on the soil, his senses aren’t overwhelmed and the corners of his mind aren’t bombarded with information. He has finally been able to make peace with the pains of the past and let himself grow as a person with Lev beside him. Kenma would stop the world from spinning on its axis every night if it meant he could be with Lev.

Most people tell countless tales of how much the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let him breathe. But nobody tells you about the way the moon loved the falling star so much that he begged him every night to stay with him in the moments when he was enveloped with a blanket of darkness. Nobody tells you about the way the stars loved the moon so much it stays up for a while to rise in perfect harmony with the moon so they could rule the world together.


End file.
